Four AM came faster than I expected. Get out of work and with a couple of chores still in the gunny, the hours drop off scurvied teeth. When sheets were finally hit, the days events wouldn’t leave me. Cynthia was parading around a new hire and stops by my cube to introduce her. Right away she fires off that my coffee cup has become wretched with caked bean gunge. I explain, yes, I like to remember what is happening to my insides and this increasingly stained porcelain keeps me on the ball. “Your body filters that out,” she says. “I just had a colonoscopy and my colon was beautifully pink.” “Beautifully pink,” so help me she said, “beautifully pink.” The new hire, mute with what-the-fuck style thoughts, teeters, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands. The awkwardness was delicious and, for the moment, muted the muffled sobs of my fellow developers heartlessly flagellating their own testicles. After finally letting my brain chill the fuck out for enough time to let sleep wash in I woke right back up four hours later, well in advance of the alarm. What dreams I’d had were filled with blurry, mundane what-if scenarios.